A Beautiful Sight
by Nyxiah
Summary: He always came on a Saturday. It was a given fact, as surely as the prescence of the universe, that he would come. Todd visits Neil's grave every Saturday, and reflects on the memories they shared, the pain of his loss, and how much Neil really meant to him. Whump. No slash but slight Anderperry if you squint (could be romantic or just friendship).


**_A/N: Hey guys! This is my first ever fanfic for DPS, so I'm sorry if it's a little rough. I absolutely ADORE Dead Poets Society (I've watched it far too much for my own good) and thought it was time to write a little fanfic! I do not own DPS ( @ Peter Weir, I will definitely take it if you don't want it anymore) and I try to do my best with grammar and characterization. Please favorite and review!! Thanks!! ~Nyxiah_**

He always came on a Saturday. It was a given fact, as sure as the prescence of the entire universe, that he would come. Some days sheets of paper would flood both of his palms as he laid the poems at the tombstone, carefully placing each one in thoughtful, tear-filled silence. Other days he'd carry only one paper, his shaking voice rushing into the wind as his words wove beautiful tapestries of heartache, love, and life to those that heard them. On rare occasion, however, he would enter the cemetery empty-handed, having no words adorn his lips or pages. Instead, he was wrapped in a shroud of silence, kneeling at the grave, staring silently at the tombstone whose wording had torn the life he knew into utter shreds.

 _Neil Perry._

 _Beloved son, student, and friend._

 _May he live on forever in our hearts._

 _1943-1959._

Todd had always hated the epitaph. It was so generic, so unfeeling, for someone as brilliant and unique as Neil. How could the existance of such a wonderfully vibrant person be confined to so few words? His thoughts swarmed with memories of his roommate, his confidant, his best friend. His _light_. Every moment he had spent with him was captured in his heart, a golden snapshot of the first person he really, _truly_ loved. The first person who truly loved him back. Images of Neil's face flashed in his mind, painting it with his everpresent air of light and hope. Memories of Neil dragging him out into the snow to practice his lines, encouraging and joking with Todd, making him laugh in the way only Neil could. A glimpse of Neil staring in awe after Todd read his poem to the class, a smile gracing his features that told him just how proud he really was. A snapshot of Neil standing alone with him on the rooftop, caring for him when even his own parents forgot to.

A tear ran down his cheek as it mixed with the falling rain, the letters on the tombstone blurring before him. There was so much he wanted to say, so many questions that would forever go unanswered. _What did I do wrong? Could I have stopped you? Helped you? Was I not good enough? Will I ever get to say thank you? Will you ever know how much you meant to me?_ The tears came harder and more frequent now, eliciting a silent sob from the young student. His head pressed gently against the headstone, its damp stone the only thing left to bring him closer to Neil. The Society was basically gone now, with Charlie expelled, Keating gone, and security hightened tenfold around the campus. It was one of the things Neil took with him that he missed most, Todd thought. The cold nights at the old Indian cave, warmed by their eager shouts and laughter, filling the night air. It was the first time he had ever felt a part of something, like he actually _belonged._ Even if he didn't read, he still felt like a part of it. He laughed and smoked and danced with the others, lost in the total freedom of the moment. Then Neil would give him his usual, familiar glance and they would break out into fits laughter for no reason in particular. Maybe the reason was that they both felt free for the first time in a long while. Maybe it was because, together, they both felt at home.

Now, Todd didn't really know what home was. _Home_ used to be the Society, Keating, his friends, Neil. Home used to be laughter and joy and sucking the marrow out of life without care of the cruel world's judgements and pressures. Home used to be _here._ And now, all that was gone. Charlie, one of the only people that truly understood Todd's pain after Neil left, was soon forced to leave him, too. Charlie still wrote letters, long ones about nothing yet everything all at once, yet the pain still remained. If that wasn't enough, he was forced to say goodbye to Mr. Keating as well. Todd smiled at thought of him. Mr. Keating's lessons in the courtyard, the way he commanded everyone on the first day of class to rip out the introduction, the poem he had helped him construct in front of the whole class. Keating believed in him. He was he only person who had ever acted like a real father to Todd, and he believed in him. Yet he had to leave, too.

Now, where was home? It wasn't at Welton with Keating, or Charlie, or Neil because they were all gone. Their light had been swept away from him into the bitter wind by the cruel, cruel hands of Fate. No, home was no longer at Welton with his friends, his _family_. Home was here, at this gravesite, encircled by his letters, poems, and journals, his heart bled out onto paper. Home was here, with the blowing winds bringing memories of the happiness and family that once was, that he could only hope may come again. Home was here, in the prescence of his closest friend. His light. His everything. Todd's eyes wandered around the cemetery he visited so often, but never really looked at. The autumn rain drenched the tombstones, the faded colors of the trees filling the atmosphere with orange and red hues. It was so different from the beauty of the clean, crisp snow on that fateful day near the lake, but beautiful all the same.

He wished Neil could have seen this.

Todd could almost see him in the midst of the reddish-brown leaves dangling from the oak trees around him. There he lingered, smiling, vibrant as ever, adoring the beauty of the fall season around him. His hands, slightly transparent in the misty haze of the morning, brushed the colorful leaves, practically gleeful as the dew rushed past his fingers and into his palm. After a moment, his gaze landed on Todd, and a warmth settled upon his features that only Todd seemed to coax out. He smiled warmly, his eyes telling him everything he needed to know. Todd smiled back at the phantom as he slowly disappeared from view, fading back into the morning mist. His gaze turned back at the tombstone, a soft smile still gracing his features from the sight of his beautiful friend. It was a small smile, yet very, very genuine. There were so many things he wished he could say to him. So many things he wanted to tell him here and now. But the most pressing, true phrase laid on his lips quietly, begging to be spoken. Melancholy tears ran down his face as he said the words, his heart brimming with loss, ache, and (for the first time since he saw Neil alive) light.

"I love you, Neil."

And through the golden hues of the fall, the quiet whisper of the wind as it raced past him, he could almost hear Neil say it back.


End file.
